Sandy's Bollywood Analysis
by Fangirlofrandomness
Summary: Om Shanti Om. Sandy's at the music launch of Akbar-Zaara. She's looking around all the stars and the cliques and stuff, and then she meets someone...no prizes for guessing who! Hey, everyone has at least one OSO fic, I have mine too!


(A/N: This is all after Om Shanti Om ends, and it's how Sandy and OK finally get together. I don't think I portrayed OK completely right, but I'm not good enough to change it so it fits. Enjoy!)

Sandy stood looking around her, at all the glitz and glamour surrounding her. She was at the music launch of Akbar-Zaara, a forthcoming movie featuring Bollywood's hottest couple of the moment. The event was huge, and so was the guest list, but Sandy had made it a point to study the Bollywood industry her whole life, so she could basically identify everybody – or almost everybody.

As she watched people trickle in down the red carpet, Sandy noticed the ever-present cliques forming. She nodded her head in acknowledgement at some people whom she vaguely knew, and continued watching the huddled masses. The men had a few cliquey groups as well, but it was more obvious with the ladies.

Over in that corner were the Newcomers, as she liked to call them. Sadly, they were the biggest group present, people who had perhaps been in one or two flop movies of the year, and whose names were as of yet, unknown by everybody. They knew none of the notable movie stars, and if their name was to be in the hall of fame someday, they would have to work for every inch of that fame.

Sometimes Sandy wondered, did she belong with them? She was technically like them; she had had only a small role in Om Shanti Om. But whenever she went to talk to them, she found that determined attitude in each and every one of them, to be one of the top stars someday. And it bewildered her; surprisingly, she had found out she did not really want to be a star. It was enough for her to be in the middle of this, seeing where everybody was, what they were doing, what they wore. And plus, she had met a huge star of Bollywood before, even worked with him, and she liked to think she had his support, even though she was never really sure. So she didn't really hang out with them much

Of course, not all those who came in new were left in the dust. Some, like her costar of Om Shanti Om, made a huge splash in Bollywood and won the Most Promising Newcomer Award, and was catapulted into Bollywood's elite circle. Yes, Dolly Pakudone was very talented, and very fortunate, but also very vapid and annoying. So Sandy stayed clear of her as well.

Sandy, spotting said costar, arrayed in a rather revealing pink dress, hurriedly walked the other way, to avoid being seen with and/or by her. She slipped into another group, which she privately called, "Hey, it's that girl!" She wriggled her way through them until she was on the other side. Then she looked back at all the girls she just passed through.

They were the ladies who people knew slightly, maybe as item girls, or with a little role in a good movie, or for some outrageous fashion statement. Other members included stars who were on the rise, and then fell midway due to some unfortunate flop. Sandy could see Sharmila Shetty, dressed gorgeously in a red strapless dress, and Tanijah Mukherjee in sunny yellow. Many of that group came from 'filmi' families, with perhaps the whole of them involved in movies. Sandy always personally wondered how parents approved of the whole idea; she herself had run away from her parents, and she wouldn't be surprised if they had disowned her.

Sandy ruefully shook her head; maybe that hadn't been the best idea. After all, what had it all come to? Nothing really happened between her and OK after the whole fire thing. The movie received even more publicity after the location burst into flames, and all the actors had started working on other projects – all except her. She had received one or two film offers – much to her surprise, but she was intimidated by the script. She didn't really think she could act out the characters they expected her to.

But perhaps you didn't need to act to be a member of Bollywood. Slyly smirking, Sandy raised a skeptical eyebrow at the "Item Queens". They were those who danced in those 'bar numbers', the highlight of a film, who appeared just to dance and make men's jaws drop. In all fairness, they could sort of act decently – definitely better than Sandy, unfortunately!

Gazing around vacantly, Sandy glimpsed another renowned clique. Sandy called them the "Miss Somethings", on account of each and every member of them being a beauty pageant queen. Aisharia Rao, who was the star of Akbar-Zaara, used to be one of them, and prominent members still included Laara Dutt and Priya Chopra. Each of them was stunningly beautiful, and those clothes! Sandy visibly coveted the orange-yellow silk sari now clad around Suchitra Sen, Miss Universe 1994.

But then, Sandy spied the group she admired the most – the ladies who were where they were because they had worked for it. They were beautiful – regally so, and they had achieved quite a bit of fame, but only by working to the bone. They were once members of "Hey, it's that girl!", but they had made it up to here – not quite the top, but perilously close. They were the "Workers", like Shillipa Shetthey and Kiran Sunsherma, and Sandy had the highest respect for them, simply because she could never imagine slaving away at a part, and doing as well as they did. Facts should be faced, and the fact was that Sandy could not act!

Sandy wandered around for a while, feeling slightly left out, as she saw so many groups of people. Even the older actresses had a clique – the "Anarkalis", popular back in her parents' day, even though Sandy snorted thinking of her uptight parents actually watching and enjoying a Bollywood movie. They had married well, many of their daughters acted now, and some of them still acted as well. There was the legendary Rakhi, the original Umrao Jaan; the 'Dream Girl' Hima Mallinee, and so many others. Ironically, it crossed Sandy's mind that had Shantipriya been alive, she would be one of them.

The second most famous clique would have to be the 'Bollymums', hits of the '90s, who were happily married now, with families of their own. But with Kaajal's release Fanaa, they were making comebacks into Bollywood, and everyone loved them. Sandy was no exception; she personally thought they were the best actresses in the world.

There was only one group better – the Actresses. Technically, everyone was an actress or an actor. But these women - they were on top – the actresses who still had a huge following even with flops. Rani was the leader, of course. You couldn't throw a coin without it hitting someone who worshipped Rani, and thought she really was Bollywood's Queen. Today, she really looked regal in her silvery-white sari, a great color for her, Sandy thought.

Sandy was so occupied with staring at the legends, she barely noticed the tap on her shoulder. Suddenly, an all too familiar voice said, "Sandy!"

Starting, Sandy jerked into the refreshments table, and spilled a glass of orange juice. "Perfect," she muttered to herself, as she grabbed napkins and rubbed the wet spot frantically.

"I'm sorry," OK apologized, and started helping her.

"It's OK", Sandy replied. What else could she have said?

"Yes, I am", OK laughed. "But if you prefer it, you could call me Om."

All at once, the light in Sandy's eyes flickered a little as she remembered the whole story of Om and Shanti. She smiled back at OK, slightly glum, and nodding, she turned to leave. Suddenly, she found herself jerked back. Startled yet again (and thankful that she hadn't crashed straight into the refreshment table again), she turned back.

"I'm sorry, again", OK said, sheepishly. "But I want to talk to you."

Sandy raised an eyebrow, and waited.

"So…", OK was clearly uncomfortable. "How's life?"

Sandy immediately felt a little pricking of annoyance. She hated it when people said they wanted to talk to her, and then went around in circles.

"Oh, fine", Sandy finally replied, the sarcasm in her voice increasing with each syllable. "I mean, I do wake up at nights tortured by dreams of fire, and you in the middle of it, and not really understanding what went wrong that night, and I really wish I could just fly back home and leave forever, but other than that, life is absolutely perfect!" She could feel the tears pricking her eyes then. She always cried whenever she got emotional, whether it was happy or sad.

OK looked at her, alarmed. He knew whenever Sandy's voice got that strained that she was about to cry. Bewildered, he tried soothingly patting her shoulder, as though it would help anything. "Um…I'm sorry."

Sandy looked at him, annoyed yet again, her eyes growing red. "Sorry? Is that all you can say?" Her voice wasn't very loud, but the tone made OK quiver with fear.

But OK was OK – he wasn't the villain in this story! What had he really to be sorry about? "What have I really to be sorry about? I don't even say sorry that much, and you got to hear me say it twice – no, three times, in the past five minutes!"

Now Sandy looked at him incredulously. She still got that feeling of being about to faint whenever those eyes looked directly at her, but she could control the impulse these days. And what did he mean, what did he have to be sorry about? "What do you mean, what do you have to be sorry about? What about never explaining what really happened that night? What about never even calling me, or even trying to contact me? What about not really telling me who you are, OK or Om?"

Sandy was glaring her hardest at him, and her voice was almost screaming (but the loud music that just started playing stopped others from hearing her), but her eyes were wet, and one lone tear slid down her cheek.

That one drop of wetness was what made OK feel remorse. Quietly, he reached up and rubbed away the tear. "All right", he told her quietly, "I'm sorry – again."

Sandy touched that wet spot on her face again, surprised. "Thank god I'm wearing waterproof mascara", she muttered, once again blessing Bela Makhija for teaching her so many makeup tricks.

"Huh?", OK asked, confused.

Sandy shook her head, and then concentrated on OK. "All right. You're sorry. I'm sorry, too." She hadn't really planned this, but life here was getting a little unbearable, and she had no idea how looking at all the famous actresses had ended up with her crying beside the refreshment table. (A/N: Neither have I. I'm just writing this whole thing down, but I swear each of these characters have gone crazy!)

"I'm leaving. Going back. Maybe my mother can convince my dad to take me back in."

"Wait – what?" Clearly, OK was shocked. "Sandy, you can't leave! Not just like that!"

When those pleading eyes were looking at her like that, it was very hard not to faint, but Sandy carried it off somehow. "Why not?"

"Well – for one thing, don't you want to become an actress? You should pursue your dreams!" OK couldn't tell her why he didn't want her to go; he didn't know himself.

Sandy drooped again when she heard what he said. "No, Om, I don't want to be an actress. I was wrong. And I was confused. I blindly followed you, I did what you told me to, without question, because at the end, I thought you – I thought you would explain them to me!"

Both their hearts had stopped when Sandy stuttered at the 'you', but each of them continued beating a little forlornly when they heard the rest of the sentence. Sandy was ashamed, that she had cherished such a pathetic crush on him all her life, and that there was no chance of the love ever being reciprocated.

OK's shoulders relaxed a little. "Well, you could just have asked. No need to _cry_!"

The horror in his voice when he said 'cry' made a little smile come to Sandy's lips.

"Well, I told you the whole story of Om and Shanti, right?" Sandy nodded along as he talked, supremely interested.

"Wow", she muttered, when he had finished. "That must have been horrible, being buried alive."

A bitter expression came onto his face – it looked so in contrast with his usually impatient manner. "Probably."

"So…" Sandy couldn't really figure out how to phrase her question. "Are you Om, or is Om you, or are you the same people?" Once she asked her question, it occurred to her how senseless and convoluted it was. But to her surprise, OK nodded.

"Sandy… I'm not sure. I still remember his life, just like it was my life. But it wasn't my life. I was never a Junior Artist."

Sandy smiled. "You were launched to fame with _Kaho Ke Pyaar Hai_." She had his list of movies memorized – a great feat, he had been in more than 50.

"Right. And I was a shining superstar ever since", he continued in a mock-proud tone. "I used to be such a jerk, huh? I always thought I was right, and perfect."

"You were rather a jerk sometimes" Sandy admitted with a grin. "Like how you never called me or anything."

OK sighed. "Sandy, you honestly can't think I didn't want to. I thought a lot about you, you know. It's just – everybody was all over me because of the fire, and the publicity and stuff. You know, even a superstar's life isn't that easy!"

Sandy snorted. "Waking up whenever you like, doing whatever you like, yes, that's a great task to be put on your shoulders!"

"I was insufferable, I know. But I changed!" OK grinned at her, a cheeky sort of grin, that made her think he hadn't changed as thoroughly as he said – and made her feel that she really didn't mind.

There was a comfortable sort of tension between them, now that OK wasn't apologizing, and Sandy wasn't crying.

"Well, anyway," OK resumed, "After the fire, I was thinking about it a lot, and I realized that we were different people. Om was all so naïve, and he was different than me, you know?" He looked at Sandy for confirmation, and got a nod in reply. "I have a different life than him – I live in a different era, even! And the biggest difference - I don't love Shantipriya." He looked up at her at this, and he saw her eyes go even wider.

"But – but you went in through the fire to save her! And you're scared of fire!" Sandy was thoroughly bewildered now, and also secretly slightly pleased.

OK rolled his eyes. He had been hinting at this all along, using the most filmi dialogues ever, and she still didn't get the hint! "How many more ways do I have to say it? I didn't go through fire to save Shanti, I went through the fire to save _you_, idiot!"

Sandy was so thrilled at hearing the 'save you' part, that she almost forgave the 'idiot' he tacked on. "So… does this mean…" She couldn't finish her sentence.

"Yes" OK looked straight at her. "Sandy, I love you."

She still stared uncomprehendingly at him. So he tried again. "Sandhya. I, Om Kapoor, multimillionaire star Om Kapoor, love you."

Sandy finally grinned at him, and then frowned at him. "So many adjectives for yourself, and none for me? Well then, I guess I have to take matters into my own hands. Om Kapoor, I, Sandhya, the beautiful, wonderful, amazing Sandhya, love you too."

And both their faces breaking out in grins, they enveloped each other in a tight, passionate, filmi hug, as all the reporters went crazy at this unexpected development, and the cameras were kept busy taking pictures of the new couple.

OK and Sandy were married in a few months, and many of the top Bollywood stars were invited – even Aisharia Rao, although she had been quite stiff to Sandy, when the newspapers contained more on their match than the actual movie music and stars.

(A/N: I don't want to be slapped with lawsuits or anything, so that's why I never mentioned each star's name properly. I'm pretty sure you'll figure it out, though! Just leave a review asking which one you don't know, and I'll tell you. That was a hint to press that little button down there, by the way!)


End file.
